


The Cotillion

by rabidfan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:09:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidfan/pseuds/rabidfan
Summary: "Oh my God!" Rodney groaned into his hands. "It's Downton Abbey!"





	The Cotillion

**Author's Note:**

> Late...so, so late.
> 
> The inspiration artwork can be found here...  
> Arcieve of our own work number 10539393  
> "Dueling Moons" by kazbaby

The Cotillion

“Oh my God!” Rodney groaned into his hands. “It’s Downton Abbey!”

“Shut up, McKay.” Ronon glared at Rodney. He’d picked feathers out of his hair for days after the last people McKay had insulted locked them up in chicken coop until Teyla had worked things out with the leadership. “I don’t like feathers in my hair.”

Rodney’s reciprocal glare faded…he wasn’t fond of feathers either. “Fine. Fine. But mark my words, nothing good is going to come from this. Remember the Genii, anybody?”

Sheppard turned to the two bickering men. “Am I going to have to separate you two? Let’s play nice.” He turned forward, gesturing towards the approaching villagers, who did bear disturbing likenesses to the cast of Downton Abbey, he admitted privately. “Looks like the welcoming committee is here.”

“Greetings, travelers!” The man who apparently was the spokesperson for the group smiled benignly at them. “Welcome to Dresston. I am Fulmeer, and these are my worthy assistants. Who, pray, are you?”

“My name is Colonel Sheppard, this is Dr. McKay, Ambassador Emmagon and Specialist Dex. We come seeking trade.”

“Indeed, indeed. We welcome trade with friends.” He gestured towards the village. “Come. Let us refresh ourselves and talk. I am most sure we will come to an amicable agreement, Colonel. Come.”

With another gesture to get the group moving, Fulmeer smiled and led off. “How did you come to know of us, if I may be so bold? Not many visit us through the Ring these days.”

“There was mention of your Para trees in some documents we discovered. They sounded so lovely we wanted to see if they still stood tall on your world.” Teyla, always the voice of calm, once again stepped in to ease over the initial hurdles.

“Ah, yes! Stand they do. See there? Just beyond the town square? That is the edge of the Para forest. It is nearly time for harvest so we have been enjoying the first fruits already. Perhaps you would care to try some yourselves?”

“It isn’t a form of citrus, is it? Because I’m deathly allergic to citrus in all forms…” Rodney tailed off under the wilting heat of the combined glares of Sheppard and Teyla. “What? You can’t be too careful. I’m fond of breathing. I’d like to keep doing that as long as possible.”

Fulmeer blinked in confusion, looking from Rodney to Teyla to Sheppard to Ronon, as though the ping-pong effect would make the conversation clearer. “I am unsure what ‘citrus’ is, Dr. McKay, but I am sure your companions would be able to tell you if you would be in any danger from eating the fruit.” Nodding at his own handling of the strange travelers problems, he again led the way to the waiting village.

The village, when reached, did nothing to diminish the Victorian feeling the clothing of the welcoming committee had evoked. Brick exteriors with beautifully thatched roofs stood cheek to jowl with timber frame homes with fretwork and shingles. It was magnificent and the only one of its kind John had seen in Pegasus.

“Have you ever seen construction like this, Teyla?” he asked, sotto voiced.

“No, I have never seen the like.” She looked at the tall, domed building they had come to. “It is most magnificent, Fulmeer. I am most impressed.”

“You are most kind, Ambassador. Most kind.” Fulmeer made a grand sweeping motion with his arm, indicating they should mount the stairs leading into the building. “Come. We will sit with the elders and discuss your request for trade.” Suiting action to words, he once again led the way, the four following behind him like heavily armed ducks.

~*~

Sitting in uncomfortably straight chairs, looking across the table at the very proper and autocratic ‘elders’ of Dresston John felt like the slightly uncouth cousin at a society wedding. He had a feeling the elders looked at them the same way.

“I am sure you can understand, Colonel Sheppard, that we must be sure of those we enter into trade agreements with. We must have some guarantee that you will honor you word. We do not say this to be insulting, but to stress our sincere desire for the trade relationship we may enter to be of value to both parties. We have much to offer in trade. Our fields yield consistently, our forests produce abundantly. We have your samples of the wondrous medicines your people produce. All good things to be sure. But what of your people, my dear Colonel? Do you hold the values as the Dresstonites? This is the core of our concern.”

John looked at Teyla for a long moment. “We do understand your concern, Elder Fairith. How can we show you our worth?”

~*~

“And that’s when the extra’s from Masterpiece Theater declared we needed to attend their dance party to prove we’re not barbarians.” Rodney crossed his arms over his chest and slammed back in his chair. “I for one am not wearing a waist coat and powdered wig.”

“They don’t wear powdered wigs, Rodney.” John sighed and rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of the usual McKay induced headache. He turned his attention to Richard Woolsey. “They invited us to attend their spring Cotillion. It’s evidently quite an honor to be included. I get the impression we’re going to be judged by how we dress and act so I’m suggesting we keep that in mind when deciding who should attend. We can bring twenty people total.”

“I’m assuming they expect AR-1 to attend?” Richard Woolsey looked down at his notes. “Do you have any idea just what sort of behavior is expected?”

John found himself smiling, remembering Rodney’s horror when it had all been explained by the cheerful Fulmeer.

“Fancy dress, excellent table manners, and ballroom dancing.” John frowned. “I’m thinking it’s pretty much like Rodney said. They seem to be at the stage of development of turn of the century Earth. They seem convinced that we can’t behave like reasonable people. The guns, uniforms and leather seemed to throw them. A demonstration of proper etiquette and decorum would go a long way to dispel that.”

“Is it worth the effort to try?” Woolsey asked. “We don’t have the resources to waste if they’re just looking for a reason to refuse us. While trade is important, our resources are finite and need to stretch between delivers from Earth.”

“They have vast stores of food, Mr. Woolsey. The closest we’ve seen to what I’ve learned of Earth norms. Wheat, barley, corn, fruit trees and more.” Teyla shared, “I would say if the expedition can fit in with the Dresston’s for their Cotillion they would be beneficial trade partners...”

Richard closed his laptop and pushed back from the table. “Right. Then let’s figure out what we need to do over lunch, shall we?”

~*~

“I hate you.”

“Your mouth says hate, Rodney but I know your hearts not in it.” John smiled at his disgruntled friend. “Who else is going to teach you to waltz?”

“How do you know how to waltz, anyway? Something they taught you in flight school?”

“My parents held a Cotillion every year. Dave and I were expected to be flawless representatives of the Sheppard name.” John scowled at the memory.

“I thought Cotillions were for debutants, sir.” Lorne shifted back from the marine sergeant he’d been attempting to dance with.

“You’re correct, major. On Earth, proper young ladies are introduced into society at a Cotillion, but in this case, it seems to just be a fancy ball.” John shifted his attention to Lorne’s would-be dance partner. “Sergeant Leone, let the major lead. It’s not sexist, it’s expedient. If you both try to lead someone is going to end up in a body cast.”

At the sergeant’s reluctant nod, Lorne held out his hand for first positon as the music began again.

~*~

Two sweaty hours later, Rodney was finally able to flee the dance hall for the familiar confines of his lab. “Ballroom dance, Wraith, evil Nazi wannabe’s…what’s next?”

“You should not be tempting fate, Rodney.” Radek shook his head. “There are things that could be worse, yes? We should not encourage their arrival.”

Laughter from the doorway made both men turn.

“Sheppard.” Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. “I refuse to attend any more dance lessons. Your grunts have ground down my toes as much as I am willing to endure.”

“Fair enough, Rodney.” Sheppard pushed off the door jam and sauntered into the lab, peering at the artifacts on Radek’s desk with interest.

Radek pulled some of the more delicate pieces back. “Please do not touch, Colonel. We do not yet know what these do.”

Nodding his agreement, John turned back to Rodney. “Woolsey decided the lessons were moving along too slowly.” He tentatively reached out for a particularly alluring artifact on Rodney’s station. “So, we’re going to have a practice ball. Get everyone at once.” He snatched back his hand as Rodney swiped at his fingers.

“No touching, Sheppard. You heard the man.” He made shooing gestures at Sheppard. “Go lean against that wall where you won’t be tempted.”

Just as Sheppard’s words penetrated Rodney’s consciousness Radek blurted, “Practice ball?”

Sheppard grinned his most evil grin. “Yep. He’s going to make a city-wide announcement soon.” Seeing the horror on the two men’s faces he felt compelled to add, “It’s just a practice run, you’ll be fine.” With that, he turned and headed out, leaving Radek and Rodney grimly silent.

~*~

Two days later, the entire group that would be attending the Cotillion gathered in the large gallery they’d discovered during their first months back in Pegasus. It’s mirrored walls and marble floors made its use as a dance hall obvious.

Standing near the open doors leading out to the expansive balcony, Sheppard sipped his water, watching the people swirling around each other in time with the waltz playing over the speaker system they’d discovered. Evidently the Ancients didn’t care about comfortable beds but liked to dance. The two Atlantean moons rose over the sea, casting a fairytale beauty over the event. He smiled. Downton Abbey, indeed.

Richard and his partner coasted to a stop next to John. “Nice turn, Mr. Woolsey. You’ve done this before a time or two.”

“Oh, yes. Formal dances are something I’m familiar with, Colonel.” He nodded to his partner. “Sergeant Mehra is coming along nicely as well.”

“Thank you, sir.” Nodding at Mr. Woolsey and her C.O., the sergeant headed off to the refreshment table.

“How do you think we will fair at the ball, Colonel?” Woolsey gestured out at the dancers. “They seem to be progressing with the dance, but I’m concerned. No one factored in formal dress in their allotments from Earth and that doesn’t begin to address the issue of table manners.”

Sheppard offered a shrug and a wry smile. “We can practice manners next. I wanted to start with the easier task to give everyone a sense of accomplishment.” He smiled at Ronon and Teyla as they whirled by. “As to attire, I have the quartermaster going out with Teyla in the morning to check out some of the markets she knows of. It’s going to cost us but there’s no time to request items from Earth.”

“You seem to have this well in hand, Colonel.” Woolsey barely managed to hide his surprise. “I’m impressed.”

Another shrug. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

The music stopped and people milled around, some seeking food and drink, others talking animatedly together. His team and Lorne and his team all joined the two. It was going well, John thought. But. He shifted, “You know, we could be facing an even bigger challenge sooner rather than later.”

“How so?” Ronon asked.

“Well, at least on Earth? Cotillions are reciprocated.” Smiling at the horrified expression on McKay’s face he continued, “We’re gonna have to do this again, and we’ll have to invite our new friends as well as some of our existing trading partners. Should be fun.”


End file.
